Post Apocalypse
by Thomas Raven
Summary: When the world ends, life goes on. Told in a series of one shots.
1. Amen

I don't own Harry Potter, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel, or Heroes and I am making no money off of this.

He thought of his father's friends that had died in the wars, and the many, many friends of the residents who had also died.

_Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change._

He thought of how the world had slipped into nuclear war, many of his parents' friends and their friends' friends being killed in the rioting.

_The courage to change the things I can._

He thought of his friends, those who had never known the years before apocalypse, and the many other residents of the city.

_And the wisdom to know the difference. _

He thought of how it must have looked as the bombs fell, as a small band of heroes including Peter, Angel, Claire, Elle, Connor, and others raced here to friends.

_Taking this worrisome world as it is, not as I would have it._

He thought of the many corpses lying dead and buried under the ash and rubble, and the stories and memories that had died with them.

_Trusting that everything usually turns out all right and probably will again. _

He thought of Giles and the others, and their families that they had started after escaping here.

_That I may be reasonably happy in this life, and supremely happy in the next. _

He got up from the bedside and walked to the door, leaving a small silver cross at the foot of the bed. He smiled as he heard his father call from downstairs, and he opened the door and walked out to join the people of the city of Hogwarts.

_Amen._


	2. Prometheus

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He walked into the small cluster of shacks, gravel crunching under his feet. He glanced around the center, taking note, sadly, of the several children, gray-faced and haggard, who were gathered around.

He pulled his pack and took out a large cardboard box, large enough for a couple of children to fit in comfortably.

He tossed it over to land in nearby the talking children, and he noticed a bit of a lull in the conversation.

As a few of the braver children ventured over to inspect it, he thought of Prometheus, the Greek titan. He had stolen fire from the gods and given it to man, and had been punished for all eternity for having done so.

He smiled as he thought of his own childhood, and of his best friend.

Of course, that had been before the bombs. Conditions in America had very quickly gone downhill after that. Survivors had been herded into small camps, like this one.

He blinked back tears as he walked over to the large box. The children squeaked and scampered away.

He rested one hand on the rim of the box, and smiled as it lifted off of the ground, just a little bit.

One child, one of the smaller ones, not more than about six years old, clambered into the box, fascinated, seemingly having forgotten his presence. Others followed, and he allowed a smile to grow once more upon his face.

He pulled something out of his pack and swung it across his shoulders as he began to walk on to the next town.

The child who had first climbed into the floating box glanced back at the strange man, and absentmindedly took note of a single detail.

The faded black-and-orange stuffed tiger draped across his back almost seemed to smile as it watched the children at play.


	3. Doing Well

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Well, they wouldn't be coming back to this village.

The man called Sylar smiled as he watched his group at play. They were doing so well.

Spike and Drusilla had joined up in California, and the two had been ready and willing to join him.

Bellatrix and Greyback took more pleasure than Drusilla, if such a thing were possible, in the torture that they forced upon innocents.

However, they had recently shown signs of becoming... dissatisfied with his leadership. No matter. That was what she was for. His secret weapon.

He had found Petrelli in Texas, badly injured. He had hardly recognized him until he spoke. He had been willing to join them, though never participating in their attacks. He would fly ahead and scout out nearby camps. It was only because of that that he tolerated him.

And then there was Adam. If you believed him, he had fought with Nakamura and the Petrellis just as he himself had. He hadn't believed him until he cut his head open and it healed. Then he believed him.

He wondered when his secret friend would become necessary. He had recruited her shortly after he had drawn a painting, using Mendez's power, of his being murdered by Drusilla.

He snapped out of his thoughts as he noticed them drawing near. He heard Spike speak.

"Sylar."

"Yes?"

Drusilla interrupted in her usual dottiness. "Miss Edith says we must replace you. The stars and the moon and the earth and the sun all agree. And they all dance under the twilight."

He allowed himself a smile. "Must we?"

Drusilla approached, and was almost at lunging distance when the tip of a thrown knife sprouted suddenly out of her heart.

Spike spun around, and met with her fist. He was lifted off his feet, and it looked as if unconsciousness came quickly.

Bellatrix went for her wand, but the figure darted at her, and thrust the point of a blade through her chest.

She dropped into a fighting position as Bellatrix fell.

Petrelli watched, eyes raised slightly.

Greyback raked her with a calculating gaze, and turned to Sylar.

Adam smiled mysteriously, and also turned.

Sylar smiled once again. They were doing well indeed.

"You alright?" he asked.

The response came quickly. "Five by five."


	4. Watching

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About the only thing he did anymore was watch.

Not that he had much of anything else to do, of course.

Ever since the bombs fell hardly anyone ever came anywhere close to here.

That had been about when he discovered that you could drink the blood straight out of a vampire and it tasted just as good as it did when it came from a human.

He didn't have many vampires left nowadays.

He used to be a Watcher.

And then he got sent to the backwater hellhole, and his life shot straight to hell.

He had died in the riots.

He and the other two-- Jesus god, he couldn't even remember their names anymore.

They had had to knock their leader unconscious to get him to leave, and then they all had died themselves.

They had died there in the shattered and ruined Hyperion.

They had died because they had thought that they could ride the wave of the rioting.

And they had bundled their friends off, and their old boss.

What was his name?

No.

He would be patient.

He would survive.

He would wait.

He would stay and he would wait for humans to come back and until then he would wait.

And watch.


	5. Burning

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God, the burning.

It was almost the only thing she could feel at all anymore.

She still remembered the looks of horror on her family's faces as they watched the bombs fall.

Jacob had come over from the reservation to be with them.

She remembered how they had seemed to disappear as they were vaporized by the fire and radiation.

All except for her.

The radiation had changed her somehow.

It had let her survive.

She hadn't even had a vision since then.

She couldn't even catch on fire anymore.

She had tried, of course. Lord, how she had tried.

Then she had tried drowning. Or being crushed by the pressure of the ocean.

But she wasn't crushed and she didn't drown.

So she walked.

She walked and she remembered.

And most of all she remembered the burning.


	6. The Other

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She looked down at the small box in her hands and thought.

She thought about the woman who had originally given this to her, all those years ago.

She thought about her family and friends, who had all died when the bombs impacted.

She thought about how this section of the United States had become polluted and radioactive as a result of the bombs.

She thought about the adventure that she had had when she was younger, and she thought about how she had gotten this box, and why.

And finally, she thought about what would happen to her depending on her decision.

She thought for a long time, and finally, she decided.

She carefully removed the two small black buttons from the box and placed them over her eyes.

And the Other Coraline took her first steps out of her bunker into the world.


	7. While the World Burns

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I stood on the deck of my ship as I watched the world burn.

Elizabeth, of course, had died passed away several centuries ago.

When she felt her time coming, she climbed into a small rowboat and had her son-- my son-- row her out into the sea.

I kissed her goodbye as I escorted her to the beyond.

My son died the same way, and every one of my descendants, at least those who could, would die at sea.

Oddly enough, no one even tried to make for the sea. They just stood outside and watched as the bombs came down.

I wonder what happened to Jack.

He was always looking for a way to become immortal. I wonder if he ever succeeded.

When it's done burning, I turn back to my ship.

My father's looking at me with a slightly worried expression on his face.

I smile at him, reassuring him.

I wonder if Calypso will be affected by this in any way?

Ah, well. While she's still alive, I'm still here.

It's time to get back to work.

The Dutchman must have a captain, after all.


	8. Ruins

I don't own anything recognizable, and I'm making no money off of this.

This is the journal of the last Autobot.

Up until about a day ago, my name was Sam Witwicky.

My girlfriend, Mikaela Barnes, and I had been invited to Diego Garcia to visit the Autobots.

That was where we were when the bombs fell.

I was talking to Bumblebee, and Mikaela was inside the base with most of the other Autobots.

Mikaela and every one of the Autobots inside died almost instantly.

Except me.

What happened there, it somehow caused me and Bumblebee to... I don't know.

I guess merge would be the word.

I don't know what I am anymore.

I'm not Bumblebee, and I'm not Sam Witwicky.

Not anymore.

There's nothing left of the Autobots anymore either.

Just ruins.

And me.


	9. The Long Road

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Text in italics is quoted from DC's Secret Origins #10, published Jan. 1987.

God, this place was boring.

Kate Lockley fought back a yawn as she looked over what had once been Los Angeles.

She had come back here as the unofficial policewoman, keeping an eye on the place.

But there hadn't been any sign of life in the area for a couple of months now, and she was thinking about trying her luck at finding one of the rumored sanctuaries.

She was snapped out of her thoughts by a clatter of rubble. A ragged figure dressed in tattered robes pulled himself around a corner.

She pulled her gun. "Freeze!"

The figure drew some kind of stick and yelled something. The next thing she knew was her gun flying out of her hand.

"Who are you?" She yelled.

The man sighed. He was dressed in tattered rags. "My name's Sirius Black. Where are we?"

She raised her eyebrows slightly. "Los Angeles."

The man exhaled loudly. "What's today's date?"

"June, 2010."

The man cursed, loudly and violently.

They exchanged stories. Sirius was shocked to hear what had happened to the world, or at least most of it, and Kate was already making plans to head up to Britain as soon as possible.

They walked together to the edge of the city. Looking out at the long road, Kate felt a sudden pang of loss.

She turned and looked back at the ruins of Los Angeles.

Sirius stepped up and laid a hand on her shoulder.

She looked at him, and he gestured to the open road.

She smiled.

_Lonely inside our separate skins, we cannot know each other's pain and must bear our own in solitude. For my part, I have found that walking soothes it, and that, given luck, sometimes we find one to walk beside us... At least for a little way. _


	10. Choices

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He couldn't believe he was returning.

It had started when a black helicopter had landed at his shelter.

The man and woman who had gotten out had introduced themselves as Riley and Sam Finn.

Apparently what was left of the government was considering setting up cities on Isla Nublar and Isla Sorna, and had contacted him because of his experience with both of the islands.

He made his choice quickly. What was there left for him here?

"I'm in."

The woman had smiled. "Welcome aboard, Mr. Grant."


	11. The Hitchhiker

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The man was walking along the empty desert road. He had noticed that it got rather cold at night, and had procured a heavy wool sweater that he wrapped around himself.

He wondered if his daughter was alright.

He wondered if anyone he cared about was alright.

He wondered what had happened to Bob, and to the Company.

He wondered if there was any truth to the rumors of sanctuaries in Britain.

He wondered if he would ever see his family, or anyone he knew, ever again.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by the sound of a car approaching along the road.

The driver rolled down his window as he screeched to a stop. "Hey, you need a lift?"

He smiled. "I would be incredibly grateful for one."

He climbed into the passenger seat. The driver started the car again, and they went on their way.

The sun glinted off the man's horn-rimmed glasses.


	12. Searching

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Molly glared down at the map spread out in front of her. Where was he?

She had been looking for Matt for some time now. True, Peter and Angel had said that they'd seen him shot before he was swallowed up by the mob, but they could have been wrong!

And now she couldn't find him with her power. The only way she couldn't find somebody was if they were...

No!

They were wrong! They had to be!

Her shoulders slumped, and she sighed. She and Mohinder and Maya and Elle had been picked up by Peter and Angel and the others in New York. Apparently Angel and his group had been traveling for some time before they ended up in Texas, and there they had enlisted Peter to help them get out of the country. Of course, he had insisted on collecting Mohinder and herself, and Claire and her family.

But what if he was--

No!

She sighed, and rubbed her reading glasses for a moment.

He couldn't be dead. She was sure of it. He was alive, somewhere out there.

And deep in the depths of the city of Hogwarts, Molly Walker returned to searching.


End file.
